The International Seven
by boshteteted
Summary: It's the seventh annual DotA 2 tournament, and the Grand Finals are underway. Who will take home the prize?


The air inside the soundproof booth was stifling. The sealed chamber was uncomfortably warm with the body heat of the five DotA players within. Although they could not hear the commentary from above, the analyst's panel was remarking on the beginnings of TI7's Grand Finals.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Grand Finals!" Redeye announced, causing a cheer from the Key Arena stadium. "This year, an interesting matchup is at the summit: Evil Geniuses versus Fu- I mean, uh, _FNI."_ The loudspeakers from the jumbotron only slightly rattled the panes of soundproof glass. Loading screens covered all five monitors in the booth.

"How the _fuck_ did we make it here?" Andrew asked, adjusting his teal Dat Boi hat under his headphones.

"Dude..." Noah said, "I don't know, I'm just glad the drug testers fell for the fake piss." His bloodshot eyes gleamed with the purple booth highlights.

"Are you high?!" Riley screamed, his face turning beet red, sweat beading at his blurry hairline.

"Don't worry about it." Noah said, attempting to insta-pick Pudge, before he realized it was Captain's mode.

"Who the fuck do we pick?" Benny said, hovering over the draft options.

"I don't fucking know!" Spencer screamed, loud enough to simulate an earthquake within the booth, "I thought you were the captain!"

"I don't know how to pick against EG!" Benny replied, cutting into reserve time on the first ban. Eventually, the draft was underway, after Techies was the first ban from FNI, much to the crowd's amusement. EG's expertly drafted lineup of Dazzle, Brewmaster, Tidehunter, Elder Titan, and Terrorblade was beset by FNI's ramshackle arrangement of Winter Wyvern, Juggernaut, Pudge, Bane, and Nyx Assassin. The horn sounded, and the game began.

"Where the fuck are our wards?!" Spencer asked, as his Juggernaut was ganked by the enemy team.

"I'm walking to the ward spot right now!" Benny replied, as his Winter Wyvern was instantly killed by SumaiL before the wards could be placed. "Fuck!"

"Oh shit, guys watch this hook!" Noah said, as he landed his first hook of the game at 34 minutes. "Oh, what a beautiful hook! Did you guys see that?"

"Yes, I saw that," Said Riley, moving his invisible Nyx Assassin about the map. "But that was the first hook you landed. See, if you had taken into affect that the hook moves at 100 meters per second, then you could have factored for the movement of the enemy heroes at an average speed of 345 meters per second, accounted for the ping for our LAN connection to the local wireless-"

"Riley, you're dead." Noah said, as Riley walked to an enemy sentry ward and died.

"-network, and then you could have most likely landed a hook on their position 3 or 4, just so that you could increase your per-minute gold by around 22 percent, for a net gain of-"

"Riley! You're fucking dead, dumbass!" Noah shouted, looking at the Irishman next to him.

"Oh," Riley said, as he glanced at his black-and-white portrait of Nyx Assassin. "Thanks for telling me."

"We fucking lost." Noah retorted, as he put his hands in the air and leaned back.

"We can still win this, guys! I'm JIMMI BATRIDER!" Spencer shouted, covering his screen in spittle. If his screen wasn't covered in saliva, he would have noticed EG all destroying the ancient, which was at half health.

Just as Andrew got up from his chair to pummel Benny to death for his retarded draft, the whole stadium shook. Andrew looked up to the sky, because the sound was one he recognized: a sonic boom.

"Why the fuck is a fighter jet buzzing the stadium like that?" Andrew asked, pondering the aircraft noise.

"That's not an aircraft..." Spencer said, through barely moving lips. "It's-"

At that moment, a green cloak zipped between the two booths at mach 3, rupturing every single eardum in the stadium except for those protected by the soundproof booths. As the audience and technicians covered their nonfunctional ears to stop the bleeding, EG stopped attacking the ancient. They were stunned by what they saw.

In front of their booth was Willy, flying around in his Windranger Hooded Cape he bought from the Valve online store a year earlier. EG, gaping at the sight in front of them, was too distracted to notice that Andrew was ratting their ancient with the Necronomicon he bought on Bane.

"Your bottom barracks has been destroyed!" The announcer screamed in SumaiL's ears. This brought him back to the action, and Willy watched as all of EG returned to their desks to finish off FNI's naked ancient.

"It's time for the big guns." Willy whispered as he withdrew a small plastic bottle from under his green cloak. He opened the bottle and downed its contents, closing his eyes in a sort of meditation. After a short cast time, he opened his eyes, saying only one word.

"Brainforce."

Willy used his newfound reality-warping abilities to disrupt the flow of the electronics nearby, covering the four-sided jumbotron in Fear's nudes instead of the game stats. SumaiL's computer lost internet connection.

"Pause!" shouted Fear as he mashed F9. The screen was black and white, and EG's team was motionless. But Willy only smirked. FNI was unaffected by the pause, and EG could only watch as the black and white monitors depicted their ancient being destroyed, followed by a short sentence:

FUCK NIGGAS INTERNATIONAL VICTORY

 _Three Days Later_

The ambulances had only just stopped pouring out of Key Arena, tending to the victims of Seattle's first indoor sonic boom. Their ears would never hear again, thanks to the unknown, compelling green force that infiltrated TI7. No one had memories of the event, not even EG. The only thing spectators could recall was that EG's Fear was hung like a horse. While TI7 was a source of pain and suffering for many, one solitary house in the University of Utah was thankful for the event. Within its walls, FNI was playing a relaxed game of DotA. One of them picked Io, and equipped an Arcana.


End file.
